Robert Elsmere by Mrs. Humphry Ward
page 81 of 1065 (07%)
page 81 of 1065 (07%)
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'I have just finished Belial! 'he said, with a sigh of satisfaction,
'and am beginning Beelzebub.' A craze of this kind was naturally followed by a feverish period of juvenile authorship, when the house was littered over with stanzas from the opening canto of a great poem on Columbus, or with moral essays in the manner of Pope, castigating the vices of the time with an energy which sorely tried the gravity of the mother whenever she was called upon, as she invariably was, to play audience to the young poet. At the same time the classics absorbed in reality their full share of this fast developing power. Virgil and Aeschylus appealed to the same fibres, the same susceptibilities, as Milton and Shakspeare, and, the boy's quick imaginative sense appropriated Greek and Latin life with the same ease which it showed in possessing itself of that bygone English life whence sprung the 'Canterbury Tales,' or 'As You Like It.' So that his tutor, who was much attached to him, and who made it one of his main objects in life to keep the boy's aspiring nose to the grindstone of grammatical _minutiae_, began about the time of Sir Mowbray's letter to prophesy very smooth things indeed to his mother as to his future success at college, the possibility of his getting the famous St. Anselm's scholarship, and so on. Evidently such a youth, was not likely to depend for the attainment of a foothold in life on a piece of family privileges. The world was all before him where to choose, Mrs. Elsmere thought proudly to herself, as her mother's fancy wandered rashly through the coming years. And for many reasons she secretly allowed herself to hope that he would find for himself some other post of ministry in a very various world than the vicarage of Murewell. |
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